


When You Smile

by skipper



Series: According To You [2]
Category: Jonas Brothers
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Romance, F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Physical Abuse, Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:28:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27767503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skipper/pseuds/skipper
Summary: Yeah, I know, I know, when I compliment her she won't believe meAnd it's so, it's so, sad to think that she don't see what I seeBut every time she asks me do I look ok, I sayWhen I see your face, there's not a thing that I would change.
Relationships: Joe Jonas/Original Female Character(s), Nick Jonas/Original Female Character(s)
Series: According To You [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2024839





	When You Smile

**Author's Note:**

> This one is REALLY intense. I'm warning you now, please pay attention to the triggers. I don't want anyone taken by surprise.

Joe yawned and stretched his arms high above his head. He breathed in a deep breath of the early morning air, glad to be out of work, but still had to make the five-minute walk down to the parking garage. Working the night shift had its perks at times, but parking was not one of them. They cleaned the lots at night, leaving him and his coworkers to park in the back lot, no man’s land to some. However, it gave him a chance to wake up, a notion that he often needed, especially when his body was continually aching for more sleep.

He let out a sigh as he reached his car, efficiently unlocking the door and sliding inside. Joe held in a long yawn, unable to hold back. He was just so tired. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, rarely obtaining the needed sleep, but Joe couldn’t. Luckily, he was good at his job as a computer analyst, and his boss was none the wiser, allowing his slow work at times.

The truth, Joe didn’t care about the job; it was enough to build his savings account, which had grown rather large in the three years since he started working there. He tended to focus on more important things that were much more critical than some measly job. His focus had changed over recent months, and he realized how important his role was in others' lives.

It was early, just past six in the morning, as Joe began the familiar trek towards his apartment. It was a mere ten-minute drive, but it was just a stop before making the thirty-five-minute drive to his parents’ house. He only went home long enough to shower and change before leaving again. It was a schedule he’d implemented just after the winter holidays, and now, just five months later, it was as though things had never been different.

But Joe knew it was important he goes every day. Delaney needed stability. He wanted to reassure her in the only way he knew how, so he created the schedule. It was one from which Joe had never deviated, as though he could have. Joe hated every hour he was apart from her, leaving him unaware of her state.

As always, Joe timed his shower and breakfast perfectly. It allowed him enough time to relax before heading to his parents’ house, where he’d arrive just after eight. It was the same time he came four days a week, sometimes five; it depended on Danielle’s schedule, which varied from week to week.

It pained him to think of it. Though Kevin never spoke openly about the time he and Danielle spent together, Joe was fully aware it bothered him. But Joe had no choice, taken from him long before, and he still hoped that Kevin would grow to understand. But with Danielle pregnant, Joe could not help but wonder how the situation was stealing from them at the same time.

As he pulled from the parking lot of his apartment, his thoughts roamed to Delaney. There was a deep part of him that hated that he hadn’t noticed sooner, as Danielle had. Maybe if he’d seen, he could’ve said something, done anything, changed the outcome of all of this.

But it was too late, and he had to watch and wonder if Delaney would ever hear him. But she couldn’t understand a word he said, not over the sound of his brothers’ voice in her head. Nick would always hold power, Joe realized, but he also knew he would stand by Delaney with everything he had.

His younger brother knew little of Joe’s time with Delaney, but Joe knew it was better that way. Despite his awareness that a part of Delaney hated him being there, he still hoped that a part of her appreciated it in some sense. He knew that should Nick find out; it would be her to suffer the punishment rather than he. It was the most challenging part to acknowledge.

After Joe began his daily trips to the house, Danielle helped devise a specific plan between the two of them. They could not leave Delaney alone. With Nick being away from home so much, they learned his schedule and arrived around him. Delaney wasn’t allowed to go, and she wouldn’t. She did as he told her. And it was something on which they could all rely.

Danielle had been watching for months, though Joe didn’t notice initially. Damn him for not noticing, and Delaney had only grown progressively worse. It was nearing four years since she and Nick began dating. Long since Nick began controlling her every move. And each day, she was falling further under his wing and the voracious hold he held over her.

There was so much of it that Joe couldn’t take in. Delaney still loved Nick, loved his control, a notion that Joe would never understand, nor did he want to. Joe simply wanted her to see, to turn away from Nick. He’d give her the power to turn him away. But she didn’t, and Joe wondered if she ever would.

When Nick began working the full-time hours the past winter, Joe made a decision. Joe chose to switch from his day shift job to the less decent night shift position. It allowed him his days with her. Even if she wouldn’t admit it, Delaney needed him. And he would be there.

It was often quiet when the hours passed; not a word was spoken, but at least she wasn’t alone. Joe hated the thought of her being alone. Delaney spent her days cleaning and organizing his parents’ house. And though he knew as well as she that it would never be good enough, she never stopped trying.

Delaney’s tears would fall at times, and Joe ached to touch her, to give her the comfort, but he couldn’t. Each touch brought a cringe, recoil, an ultimate rejection he could not bear. Joe stood by her as she shed each tear, as close as he was allowed. He listened to each one falling, each sob that escaped her lips, and watched each wrack of her shoulders that followed. Joe longed to fix her, to take her away from it all. But he couldn’t. Delaney wouldn’t let him.

Joe knew on the few days that Danielle spent with her, she talked; she filled the silences with endless streams of words, quotes, things to make Delaney think. She wanted to convince her to leave, but all it seemed to do was create a strong sense of animosity between them. Joe had slowly understood that it was going to do nothing to help her. Not that any of what they did would. There was no way to convince Delaney. It was long past that point.

Despite the hardships with the given priorities, it was not all bad. There were the days Joe lived for, the reasons he kept coming. It was not as though he could’ve stopped, but those moments when Delaney was free. When Joe spoke, he often mentioned books he wanted to read, articles in the paper, mostly nonsensical words that meant nothing to either of them.

But every once in a while, Delaney would stop her studies or pause her daily duties; she’d lift her head and look at him. Joe’s eyes would eagerly move across her gaunt figure, the protruding cheekbones, dark circles prevalent upon her ghostly skin. Sometimes it would only take seconds, sometimes several minutes, but he sat, just waiting for it.

Then finally, she would open her mouth. Her response could last for minutes, or sometimes only seconds, but it always ended in a smile. It was still faint, and if Joe hadn’t been searching, he most likely would’ve missed each one. But Joe lived for the smile, _her_ smile, and the hope it gave him. It was a hope that would never cease, and until he breathed his last breath, it would be there.

Anymore, those moments were so far and in between. Most days with Delaney were spent without speaking a word, no sounds escaping her lips, no brightness in her eyes. She was lost in the vast emptiness that was her life, and Joe longed to fill it. At first, it was mere sympathy, hatred towards his brother for what he’d done to a poor innocent girl.

Delaney had come from the rough side of town, parents alcoholics, dad disappeared, mom would leave for days at a time, but no one knew where. And Joe knew Nick had targeted her. He knew exactly what she longed for, and he’d preyed on it like she was a wounded animal.

Joe remembered what Nick was like when they were kids. He’d always been a bully, though no one really noticed. Nick would seek one person out; it was something Joe recognized. But he was unaware of the depth of his brother’s abilities until Delaney.

She’d changed a lot of things for him, opened his eyes to not only the darkness existing in the world but the light. The hope that she could one day be free. The hope that she might feel as he did, and she would see what love really was, even perhaps, embrace it. Joe wanted her to feel anything real, anything outside of his brother.

Joe sometimes spent time sleeping on the couch in the living room, drifting as he watched her work. Most hours, though, he stayed awake, waiting for the moments when Delaney would need him. And she did. Joe wasn’t sure if she even recognized it, but he did. It was a learned process, something he discovered over time.

Without explanation, Joe would see it coming. He would stand beside Delaney, invade her private space, make her breaths shudder for several seconds before her shoulders began to calm. That’s when he knew she needed him. She would let him in then, albeit small and minute, but Joe would give her what she needed.

In the beginning, he tried real comfort. He tried to physically reach out for Delaney. But after a single incident, he’d unintentionally surprised her by putting his arm around her shoulder, and she’d broken a plate. Delaney had ended up spilling what little stomach contents she had in the toilet while muttering in fear of punishments. He didn’t try to touch her after that.

Why his parents didn’t notice, Joe didn’t fully understand. He knew his father wouldn’t. Nick was just like him, though his father did not hold onto their mother like Nick with Delaney. But his mother always had a featherlike touch; she was perceptive and drawn to their aches and hurts, always had been.

He didn’t, couldn’t comprehend why she didn’t see it. And Joe knew better than to speak of it. He and Danielle had tried telling Kevin on several occasions, but Kevin thought they were overreacting. Joe knew if he couldn’t convince his older brother, he wasn’t even going to try his parents.

Delaney didn’t officially live with them, but with Nick’s persuasiveness, it was close. His parents didn’t mind, didn’t say a word when she spent the night in Nick’s room. He heard them once, locked away in his bedroom. Nick’s harsh words rang through the air, followed by Delaney’s desperate apologies, her voice unfamiliar from her hours of silence. But her pain was loud and clear. It always was.

Joe had approached Nick then. He’d shoved him into the stove, their fight rough, and Joe’s marks had remained on his back and chest for weeks. Nick had naturally denied it all, rationalized that Joe had overreacted over nothing. He did not know what had stemmed Joe’s anger.

But Delaney had suffered. Because of Joe, she had hurt, and there was nothing he could do but watch. For over a week, he didn’t see her eat a bite, didn’t see her drink a sip. He watched and waited, slowly realizing how Nick had repaid him, through her. Though he was sure it wasn’t the first time it occurred, that was the first time he witnessed her passing out.

Joe looked at the street signs as he drove; the recognition of each one caused his dread to grow. He never knew what to expect with Delaney. She had good days and bad days; it depended on what kind of state Nick left her in. And Joe always knew by the puffiness of her eyes, tracks of tears on her cheeks, her overall demeanor, what kind of day it would be.

If he saw the signs, he spent the day in silence. It would be too easy for Delaney to tip over the edge. But if he didn’t, he might try to speak after a few hours. But none of his words held any importance but merely filling the silence.

He thought of the morning she’d passed out. He’d seen it coming. Throughout the morning, her gaze had been unfocused, her breathing rapidly from her tiny chest. Even though they were turned into fists, her hands trembled constantly, and each of her movements continued to falter, though she never stopped moving.

As the symptoms grew worse, Joe stood next to her, waiting for the moment. Delaney had been tense, more so than usual, but he refused to leave her side. Joe couldn’t confirm exactly why he knew. Perhaps it was a mixture of her pain; he could see it by the constant grimace on her face and him standing much too close. She wore an oversized shirt, Nick’s no doubt, and it hung loose on her frame, her pants sagging. They always did.

When Delaney still went home sometimes, she’d once worn a tighter shirt. Joe had seen her and Nick coming through the window that night, Delaney’s arms tight around her torso, her body cowering from Nick’s condescending gaze. Once they entered the house, Danielle’s gasp was the first sound Joe heard, and upon a look in their direction, he understood why. Joe knew why Nick was angry. The shirt held nothing back. It nearly made him sick, and later on, when Joe relived the memory, it did.

That was the day the pregnancy was announced, but Joe felt no joy, only fear for the broken girl. The shirt was small, smaller than Danielle’s size, but it still hung on her body. Her shoulder blades sharp against the back, ribs poking through the sides, her chest prominent from the collar that dipped below her neck. And Nick had disproved, he could see and later on, heard the words, aimed to hit her deep. And they did. They always did.

And that morning, when she fainted, it was no different. She looked to Joe, as though begging, mere seconds before she fell. The echo of the duster across the hardwood floor was the sound he remembered. There was no sound as her body crumpled, no sound as his arms reached, catching her inches above the floor, and there was no sound as she finally took a breath, though her eyes did not open. He was only met with silence, the loudest silence he’d ever heard.

Her shirt had risen amongst her fall. And he’d seen it all close up then. Inches from his face, her body screaming at him to fix her, but he didn’t. Without breaking a wind, he’d stood, carrying her much too light frame to the couch. As she lay there, deep in slumber, he’d touched her. It was the first time in many weeks, and the tremble in his hands was visible as the tips of his fingers brushed her arm. After several minutes, he began to move, his fingers feathering across each protruding bone, her hips, ribs, sternum, and shoulders. It was the first time he cried.

His tears wet her skin, and she tensed. Joe did not move. He had simply waited; he waited for her to wake, he waited for the cringe and recoil. Joe waited for the moment when she’d pull away once again. But mostly, he anticipated the moment when the guilt would line her features, her mind telling her all that she’d done wrong. Joe waited because it was all he could do. So he waited.

He did not place a phone call immediately because he knew. Nick would blame her, and he could not handle that. Though it felt like hours, she awoke twenty-three minutes after falling, seven short of when he’d call the ambulance. But she’d awoken.

If Delaney recognized the redness around his eyes, the tears still damp on his cheeks, she did not comment. She’d stood, and he followed. Joe’s body remained close to hers, forcing her to the kitchen. Delaney would not stay near him. He knew she wouldn’t. So he verbally urged her there.

She sat at the table as he made the peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He gave her a glass of milk and sat beside her as she ate it all. And when the plate was empty, her cheeks flushed pink, in a way that almost healthy. But her eyes filled with guilt. Joe had let his head fall into his hands when she rose from the table. Delaney continued her work as though none of it had happened at all.

He never told Danielle of that day. Though they spoke of Delaney often, he couldn’t admit what happened. It had been his fault; she’d been punished because of him. He didn’t confront Nick again. Joe didn’t look at Delaney in Nick’s presence, didn’t so much as mention her name, because it all went back to her. And he couldn’t face that. Joe couldn’t let her be punished for his mistakes; the last years had punished her enough, even if she didn’t recognize it.

The next day she’d spoken to him; a single sentence without prompting filled the silence. It was early afternoon, hours after his arrival. Joe had not said a word, especially with the previous day’s events repeating through his mind. He did not want to risk upsetting her.

He merely sat across the room as she worked on her homework, the online classes she was forced to take but knew she secretly loved. Joe knew a part of her loved the learning process, though he wondered where it would take her. He pondered where Nick would allow it to take her.

But that afternoon, her voice rough yet majestic had been heard. Perhaps she hadn’t spoken to Joe, maybe just to make a sound. But Joe was there, and he’d listened. “Nick’s going to be home late tonight,” she said, her voice soft, hesitant, “not until seven.”

Joe smiled as he recalled the moment. He had simply nodded and stayed until after seven that night; a dinner with the family was his excuse. Joe saw her smile that night, just before Nick arrived home, she’d smiled. And though he’d gotten no sleep that day, it was worth it.

The following day she’d gone home, only for them to return hours later. Nick's grip on her arm undeniable. He’d gotten his letter, his acceptance to a faraway school. Joe had breathed a sigh, he would leave, and Delaney would stay. Delaney would be free from him, and he’d smiled until she uttered the word, _we_. He couldn’t breathe after that, let alone smile.

That was the second time he’d cried. Alone that night at his apartment, he called in sick and spent hours upon hours in his bed crying for her. He cried for the tears she could not shed unless alone. He cried for the comfort he was unable to provide. But ultimately, he sobbed for the broken girl he could not heal. This broken girl, she did not exist, not anymore, not without Nick’s say.

Joe turned his focus towards the road as he neared the familiar house. He felt tense and uneasy, much as he always did, but he slowed further as he drove closer. And as Joe pulled into his parents’ driveway, there was a surprise. He looked to the clock on his dash, he was actually behind schedule, yet Nick’s car was still in the driveway.

Joe wondered if he’d mixed up the days, but he’d glanced at the paper at home. He backed out and parked on the street, hoping Nick would leave soon. Joe sat for several minutes before driving away. It might prove badly for Delaney if he arrived at the odd, early hour. Joe couldn’t have Nick see him, so he went to the diner downtown. Despite already having had breakfast, he ate again, anything to fill the lump in his stomach.

In the month since receiving the acceptance letter, Nick had done little to prepare for his departure to Joe's knowledge. Joe was beginning to fear that he was never going to leave. Nick’s graduation was the following week, the ceremony late due to the water-main break that had flooded the auditorium. But Nick still acted as though he was on regular schedules. And Delaney tended to his wishes. She always did.

When Nick informed her she was to take summer classes, the family had been there, meaning Joe had. But Nick had missed the flicker of light in her eyes, the small ray of hope. And it made Joe extraordinarily happy. It was an odd sensation, but later on, he realized it had been coming for months.

A part of him began to understand it was the reasoning for his concern's level of depth. Joe’s feelings for the broken girl were far beyond trying to take her away from his wretched brother. They ran much more profound, and it wasn’t until her light shone, in the single moment that he began to see. And it was that moment; he knew he’d never give up. He couldn’t. Not without her safe and by _his_ side.

With a deep sigh, the time passing into mid-morning, he left the diner. Joe left a large tip due to his stay's length and his reluctance to accept anything the nice woman had offered. It wasn’t like him to be so short, but he had a feeling, a deep sensation of dread that had him sitting in fear.

Joe drove back to the house, biting his lip as he turned onto their street, hoping and praying. But it was in vain. An audible groan left his lips at the sight of his brother’s car still parked in the drive. Without another thought, Joe parked on the street, thinking quickly. Rather than avoid the home, he prepared to use the need to borrow his parents’ internet as an excuse for his presence. It should work; most likely, Joe would annoy Nick that he was there. He wouldn’t suspect anything, or at least, Joe hoped he wouldn’t.

He moved from the car, feeling hesitant despite his reasoning. Joe took a quick glance through the windows before entering the home but saw nothing, no one, and he silently pleaded it really was just that. He had witnessed snippets of their time alone, and he had long since feared the depth of his brothers’ actions without any potential interruptions.

As he entered, Joe heard a sound coming from the kitchen. But as he turned the corner, the sight he witnessed was far more repulsive than anything he could have imagined. It was far more than Joe had ever considered. Joe’s mouth filled with bile, but he could neither move nor react. He could not let his brother know of his presence. It would only hurt her, worse than his brother was hurting her right then and there.

Nick stood in the center of the kitchen, his head thrown back with moans of sickened pleasure, leaving his lips. His words of malice and encouragement echoed across the walls, etching themselves into the tiles forever. Joe tried to look away, he needed to avoid the sight, but he couldn’t. He could never pretend it wasn’t happening to her.

His hand covered his mouth as he watched with a new level of disgust. Nick’s hands were tight in Delaney’s hair, the locks curled in each crevice of his fingers. Even if she withdrew, Joe knew she would not be able to pull free with Nick’s reign on her. Joe could see the red of her scalp from his distance, his brother forcing her head to remain still.

Despite the repulsive nature of the act, Joe still did not turn; he faced the pain as she did. Her discomfort was his, as it had been for months. But this was far worse than he’d ever anticipated, far more than he’d ever thought possible. His brother, his own flesh and blood, was inflicting these deplorable acts, abusing her in ways he never could have considered.

He watched his brother’s hands tighten in her hair with each thrust, his knuckles white from the strength of his hold, her hair pulled tighter around each of his fingers. Joe swallowed the thick fury back down his throat at the sight of her tears falling. The streams were thick as they ran down each cheek, each river escaping through her tightly closed lids.

Delaney’s hands were turned into firm little fists, her bony knuckles as white as his brother’s. Her body shivered and trembled. She was terrified. Her hands, they were caught in the air, nearly unmoving as she was forced to take exactly what Nick was giving her, what he was forcing her to accept.

The sounds grew louder as the seconds passed. Joe could hear each gag, his brother hitting the back of her throat with each thrust. The sound of each struggle of breath through her nose was overwhelming. Nick fucked her mouth, every moment a fight against the movements. Her head continued to rock at the power of his brother’s actions, and he tightened his hold with every act of defiance.

The puffs of breath through her nose, her fight to breathe were enough to make Joe’s body shake unnaturally, as he saw her often do. The drool dripped from her chin like she was an animal, merely caged for his pleasure, Nick’s beck and call. And his tears finally fell at the realization that she complied. The guilt was overpowering. Joe had not seen, he’d let this happen, and now it was too late.

It was not the first time this had happened. Without confirmation, Joe knew it. He had seen the darkened spots on her scalp before, hidden by her thick tresses. It was only in the moments when she ran her fingers through it that the swollen marks revealed themselves.

But Joe had honestly never thought they were actual bruises; she never had bruises, not the ones you could see. Her invisible scarring had always been much darker, much more profound than any mark would be. But by his brother’s tightening hold and each of her visible winces, he knew what they were and what they’d always been.

A whimper escaped her mouth as Nick began to move faster, her head no longer flinching in the steadier hold. Her eyes tightened, her body clenching, her fists nearly to his thighs, as though she wanted to fight his movements. But he could see a part of her wanting to hold on, to continue. She tried to be good for him.

Joe watched the snot begin to run down from her nose as her drool thickened. Delaney’s struggled breaths were near gasps as the liquid, matching her tears, fell onto her shirts and pants. And Joe’s tears fell with each drop, his pain, his remorse growing that the movements still had yet to stop. He ached to stop the scene, but he couldn’t, not if it meant she’d be hurt worse than this. It would undeniably be blamed on her.

Nick’s voice rose, and for the first time, Joe took in the words, the nasty, encouraging words escaping his lips, ones that sunk to his very core. Joe’s chest grew tight, and he trembled, but he knew if he entered and made his presence known, it would be taken out on her.

Nick would blame her and Joe couldn’t stop it, because she wouldn’t let him. No one but Danielle believed this, and they wouldn’t. Nick was the image of perfection; even Kevin couldn’t see the truth, his brother's vindictive power. And it was not only Nick’s power but Delaney’s constant compliance to his control.

As Nick finally finished, Joe shoved his fist in his mouth to hide the noise, this whimpers of repugnance leaving his lips. He watched him thrust and groan through it, his body rigid as he finally, finally slowed. He watched his grip eventually loosen on her hair before his hands let go, shifting to run through his own curly locks, a smile growing on his lips.

Delaney’s hair remained the same shape for several seconds, and Joe realized her sweat mixed with his unyielding hold caused it to be that way. But even though his hands had moved from her head, his pelvis remained hitched forward. He kept his damned cock in her mouth, her nose shoved into his pubes. The thick liquid began to escape from her lips, dripping and mixing with the drool still rolling down her chin.

Joe's legs shook, his body convulsing violently, and he feared falling to the ground. He felt a breath escape when Nick finally moved back, pulling from her mouth completely. He stuffed himself into his boxers and zipped up his pants, nonchalantly like it had been nothing.

But deep down, Joe knew, to Nick, it had been nothing. Joe watched as he patted her head and wordlessly stepped away. The echo of his feet sounded across the floor as he moved down the hall. Delaney fell to her hands, her chest heaving, and Joe could see the visible tremble of her entire body.

Her mouth remained shut, her nostrils moving quickly with her need to breathe, but she didn’t take a breath. Joe began to understand why she wouldn’t swallow; it was a thought that both repulsed and relieved him all the same.

Joe finally released a quiet gasp of air when she shifted; her movements slow as though she would fall back to the floor at any moment. His eyes were careful, watchful for Nick, but at the slam of the far door, he knew he’d gone to his room.

It took Joe minutes to regain his ability to move, and when he did, Joe walked swiftly in the direction of the bathroom. He breathed a sigh of relief when the door handle turned without resistance. He could enter and meet Delaney soundlessly without alerting Nick of his presence.

“Dee,” he whispered, barely able to speak the word. Her rigid stance was the only confirmation that she’d heard, but she did not turn, merely leaning over to spit the mouthwash into the sink.

Joe stepped closer, but her body stiffened further, her hands curling into fists at the edge of the counter. He stopped, not wanting to upset her. She mumbled incoherently, and he shook his head, unable to speak, to comment as the pain spread across her features. Her eyes were now closed tight, her brow furrowed, and she released several slow breaths, as though to calm herself.

“I thought you were gone,” when she finally spoke, her voice was hoarse and filled with her lingering pain.

His body grew rigid once again, and like a flash, her pain was suddenly replaced by fear. Her eyes grew wide, terror evident in her pupils, and his brow furrowed in response, his chest rising tight. He didn’t fully understand the action, he’d never given her reason to fear him, and he hated the thought that she did. But in the end, he knew that she feared him, not because of him, but his brother’s wrath.

“I was gone,” he finally responded. He flinched as he heard the water stop and knew it was Nick’s shower. He’d be escaping soon. Joe reached behind him and locked the door, a notion to keep her free from him for at least a few minutes.

When he turned, Joe’s eyes watched as hers closed tight, her hands moving to firmly grip the counter. She leaned her head down, as though preparing herself, but for what he didn’t know. Her legs began trembling, and a sense of fear rose within him as he understood. He didn’t want to understand, yet he did all the same.

She was waiting for him. Delaney was waiting for him to touch her, take her body the way Nick did. The bile rose in his throat, and he inhaled sharply through his nose as he watched, unable to move, unable to react. She pulled her lip between her teeth, her grip on the counter tightening, and her knuckles white with fear.

She was scared of him. No, she was terrified. And Joe was terrified for her, and precisely what this meant. Joe didn’t move, but she finally did. She fell over the sink, her body tense as she took another swig of the mouthwash. He took a chance to step forward in her moment of distraction.

But Delaney saw him and gagged yet again, the sound reminiscent of the kitchen, and he knew he’d never forget the image, the sounds imprinted inside him forever. He lunged forward as she fell to her knees before the toilet, her frail body releasing all she had into the porcelain bowl.

Without a thought, Joe was on his knees behind her, hovering close, much closer than usual. With one hand on her back, his fingers were able to feel each bone, her shoulder blades, her spine, the backside of her ribs with each gentle swipe of his hand. The other hand rested on her knee, his thumb brushing the clothed skin as her heaves continued.

Her body was tense and trembling, but he didn’t pull away. Joe stayed close, much too close for her, but he wouldn’t pull away from her. He couldn’t move. Not from Delaney. Even if she didn’t realize it, Joe knew she needed him.

As he leaned further into her frail body, he moved his hands to pull her long hair back, keeping it from falling in her face. He kept his hold loose, wary of her scalp, which was no doubt still throbbing. He watched her closely, his eyes on each of her falling tears as he whispered gentle shushes into her ear.

Joe rested his hand on her back as her head lifted slightly, and without moving his hand, he felt more weight against his palm. With a feeling of elation, he realized she was leaning against him, leaning into him in a way she never had. Delaney was silently taking his comfort.

Her sobs began to increase, and with his other hand on her arm, gently pulling, she finally fell into him. She accepted his embrace for the first time. His hold was loose around her, yet unwavering as she continued to cry, her bones sharp against him with each whimper that wracked her body. The sounds grew, and he prayed that Nick had left, that there was no chance he could hear. It would not bode well for her, especially the way she was lying in Joe’s arms.

Joe’s eyes glistened as her pain echoed through each cry that left her lips. His entire being longed to take away the anguish. It was so strong and so evident. And in these moments, he wondered if she recognized it for what it was or if she could even realize it.

Joe wrapped his arms tighter, closing his eyes, but he quickly reopened them. The image in the kitchen was implanted in his mind, and he could not close them without replaying the scene, the depth of his brother’s wrath. One he could not hope to heal. The situation was far worse than Joe ever thought possible.

Much too soon, Delaney pulled away, unnecessary apologies leaving her lips, but Joe knew it was set into her mind. She felt guilty for crying. Joe stood then, grabbing a glass of cold water and handing it to her. After rinsing her mouth another time, she drank the rest in one large gulp, wincing as she did so. He reached to help her, but Delaney avoided his hand, doing it on her own. She stumbled several times in her struggle to stand, but she refused to reach for him.

Joe continued to watch her, panic rising with him as she held firm to the counter. She finally glanced his way, and he could not hide the emotion on his face, the fear that lingered for her. Immediately her eyes grew wide, and he realized that this was the moment. She understood he’d witnessed the event in the kitchen.

Delaney’s eyes filled with tears, her body silently pleading his discrepancy, as though he’d not comply. As she breathed a sigh of relief, he broke. He couldn’t hold fast, pretend it was okay, because it wasn’t, it never was. His hands curled into tight fists as inwardly fought but inevitably lost.

_“I’m not going to say anything,” Joe said quietly, his voice filling with a mixture of pain and defeat, his chest tightening. He groaned to himself, and he moved his hand roughly through his hair, his resolve gone. He lifted his eyes, his gaze suddenly burning as he spoke, his tone begging, pleading with her._

_“But I can’t pretend I didn’t see that… I can’t pretend,” he spoke. Delaney’s eyes widened, and he stepped closer, still leaving feet between them as his tone softened. Joe’s voice quiet but intense, “My God,_ _Dee, he’s hurting you so bad… you’re withering away to nothing, to nothing…” His face dropped as he whispered, “Fuck, to nothing.”_

_“I’m fine,” she stated firmly, her voice filled with a sense of malice, and it caused him to recoil. Joe reached into the drawer as she stood and held out an unopened toothbrush._

_Delaney remained still, her stance firm, her legs trembling, and after several moments took it. She turned, ignoring his presence as she brushed her teeth. He watched her repeat the action once, twice, three times before stopping, and she set the toothbrush neatly against the edge of the sink._

_She then grabbed a washcloth and meticulously cleaned the sink, wiping away all residue of her breakdown, any indication she’d been there at all. Joe stepped back as she moved to the closet and grabbed the spray. She kneeled in front of the toilet, cleaning that as dutifully as the counter. As though she was a robot, she was moving as though it was natural, as though anyone would. Not someone who had just spewed their guts mixed with his brother’s cum, this was ordinary._

_Delaney turned to him once as she reached for the doorknob, her hesitation loud and clear, and he understood the fear. If Nick knew they were alone, it would not be pleasant._

_Joe stepped back, climbing into the empty shower and pulling the curtain closed, watching as she turned. Delaney nodded, but not to him. She was reassuring herself, her eyes complete with guilt that she’d broken down. But mostly, that he had seen. It was a look he’d seen each time she cried. It wouldn’t fade for hours afterward._

_Joe sat down in the dry tub, not waiting, but hiding. Hiding from his failure, his inability to protect and ultimately save her. Instead, he did nothing. Joe sat, tears prickling at the corner of his eyes, but he would not let them fall. He wanted so badly to help her, but she did not want his help._

_Joe only had moments like this, which were so far between, that she would even allow his comfort. He despised that it was always in the lowest of circumstances and the guilt. She was still full of guilt afterward, and then it filled him as well because he inevitably made her feel that way._

_Joe finally stood, cursing himself again, he was taking too long, and she was alone. He prayed Nick had left. He needed to be there for her in the only way he could. The only way she’d let him, Joe had to be there. He still could not wrap his mind around what he’d seen._

_But, more importantly, Joe did not want to see his brother. At the very thought, his anger proliferated, and he knew he would not be able to hold himself back, not even for Delaney’s sake. His brother was sick, he was wrong in so many ways, and he wanted to hurt him and make him feel the pain he inflicted, even if only for a few moments._

_Joe exited the bathroom slowly, his ears listening closely for any sounds, any indication he should hide for her sake. But when he heard it, the sound he heard ruined him, piercing him to his very core. Joe moved faster, his eyes searching for Nick, but Joe only found Delaney. Her sobs were wracking her tiny body against the cushions of the couch, her hands over her head, fingers trembling as they hovered over her hair. Joe looked out the window before moving, his mind filling relief that Nick was gone. Then he moved forward._

_“Dee,” he whispered, and she shook at the sound. Her eyes opened amongst her tears, the soft sobs continuing to exit her mouth. Joe lowered himself before the couch, his hands resting on the cushion beside hers. “Please,” he breathed, his fingers stretching for her hand. “Please,” he pleaded, his fingers curling over the side of hers._

_“Joe,” she spoke, her lips barely parted. The noise was so soft he hardly heard, even in their close proximity. He nodded and moved his thumb to gently brush along her protruded cheekbone, his finger tracing the firm line._

_“I’ll be right back,” he spoke gently. Joe’s chest heaved as her fingers tightened around his, Delaney’s eyes growing wide with the movement. “One minute,” he breathed, “And I’m coming right back.”_

_Joe reluctantly pulled from her grasp, his body aching for her. He grabbed a towel from the drawer beside the sink and an ice pack from the freezer. He moved to the side closet and grabbed the heating pad, unsure of which would be the best._

_Joe felt shaky and unsteady as he entered the family room once more. He approached the couch slowly as to not startle her. He set the ice pack on the table as he reached behind the sofa to the outlet, plugging in the pad and putting it on the lowest setting._

_“Dee,” he whispered softly, still feet away from her. Her eyes opened and surprisingly met his, the first time in months, he recalled. He stepped towards her, ignoring the way her body flinched and trembled._

_“I have some ice,” he spoke as he picked up the towel. Delaney stared at the pack, her eyes so unsure. “For your head,” he clarified. He rested it gently on her head, though it was not soft enough, and tears immediately streamed down her cheeks, her entire body rigid with the pain._

_“Stop, stop,” she pleaded, and he instantly pulled it away, gripping the pack tightly in his fist. He groaned to himself, his head lowering in defeat. He lifted it to see her fingers moving to the edge of the couch, reaching for him. He pulled a blanket from the end and shifted it over her body with one hand, aching to stop her from recoiling from his touch._

_“I’m going to sit on the couch,” he said gently, his voice soft. “I need you to sit up,” he continued, “come here.” She surprisingly did so without complaint, and it caused him to recoil this time, not understanding her thought process. Joe sat down and patted his thigh, indicating she could rest her head against his leg. As she did, she began to tremble violently, leaving him with uncertainty. Maybe it was too much._

_His confusion furthered as she suddenly pulled the blanket over her head. After a moment, she turned to face his center, her nose against the zipper of his jeans. Her body was nearly convulsing as he felt the wet spot on his jeans from her tears. He sat rigid as he felt a tug and then cringed as he realized it was her fingers pulling at the button of his jeans._

_“No,” he yelled and pulled the blanket down to her chest. Her eyes were wide with fear, and he kept shaking his head, his trembling hands matching hers. “_ _Nonononono_ _,” he breathed, his fingers ghosting along the edge of her hair, no idea what to do. She kept her head against his leg, her eyes staring up at him, her gaze filled with shame. But not for what she’d been about to do, but that he didn’t let her. Her eyes appeared as though she’d done something wrong._

_“M’sorry,” she finally mumbled. He put a hand on her shoulder, forcing her on her side, her face towards his knee. He grabbed the warm pad, placed it on her back, and pulled the blanket over it, but she immediately began to sit up._

“No, please,” he begged, his torso curled near her. Joe’s hand curled around her head to rest on his knee, and he breathed a sigh as she brushed her fingers to his. His other brushed through the edge of her hair, wary of tugging on the locks.

“Joe,” she breathed, her eyes closing. The tears continued to fall, but her body was slowly relaxing, though still stiff with fear and apprehension.

“Sleep,” he whispered in her ear. Her eyes opened, and he spoke again, “I’ll wake you if he comes.” He said reluctantly, but it was enough for her, and her eyes closed again. It was moments before she altogether drifted, though even in her slumber, her body remained stiff. Joe knew as soon as she woke, it would be as though none of these moments had occurred, but for now, he could hold her.

It was for hours. Hours passed since Delaney fell asleep, and they remained in the exact position, her body unmoving, entirely still as she slumbered. Joe slept for a while as well, but could not stay so for long. He needed to watch for Nick, unsure if he’d gone to work or was out for leisure. Delaney would know for sure, she always knew, but Joe refused to wake her until absolutely necessary. He would let her sleep for as long as he could. She needed it. 

Joe grew nervous as he heard a car in the drive followed by the slam of a door. He felt the color drain as his eyes stared down at Delaney, her brow furrowed, her hands curled into tight fists, even in her sleep. Joe did not wake her. He couldn’t. Instead, he waited, praying it wasn’t him. His neck was reaching back, searching, and his breath caught as the front door was opened. His heart pounded, and he swore he could feel a trickle of sweat as he heard the footsteps nearing.

“Joe,” he jumped as Danielle spoke, her pregnant belly large and protruding as she entered. As his heart fought to resume an average pace, he quickly held a finger to his lips. She had a hand over her mouth as she waddled over to the couch, her eyes growing wide at the sight of Delaney over his lap. “How long has she been out?”

“Um,” he glanced to the clock, taking in the time. “About five hours, I think,” he mumbled, unsure of exactly what time she’d fallen asleep.

“When’s he expected back?” she asked, unable to hide the disdain in her voice. He watched her sit across from him, her hand reaching for the armrest to help ease back into the chair.

“I don’t know,” Joe said quietly. “That’s why I’m awake,” he continued, his eyes trained on her frail body, “I promised I’d wake her if he came back.”

“Why?” she whispered incredulously, though it was evident in her eyes that she knew exactly why. Joe glared for a moment, pursing his lips, not wanting to argue with the hormonal woman again.

“It was the only way to get her to sleep,” he finally mumbled, and Danielle nodded. He lifted his gaze, meeting the older girl’s, “don’t say anything to her today.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, hurt filling her voice.

“About Nick,” Joe finally said, his eyes glancing to ensure she was still asleep though she hadn’t moved. “Today was bad, Dani… just let it go today.”

“I hate this,” Danielle shook her head, tears filling her eyes. “I hate this, I hate this, _I hate this_ … God Joe, why her, just why,” she lifted her eyes, ignoring the falling tears as she begged for answers, but he had none. “Why doesn’t anyone believe us? Why can’t we stop it?”

“I don’t know,” Joe shook his head. Delaney began to shift, and Joe bit his lip, his body was willing her to stay asleep, but she still opened her eyes. They filled with surprise as she looked around, as though regrouping her surroundings, unsure of how she got where she was. “Delaney,” he spoke softly as to not startle her, and she immediately lifted her eyes to his, “he’s not here.”

“I should–” she started, but Joe shook his head, his fingers hesitantly brushing hers. He closed his eyes as she flinched from the touch, and he waited for the recoil.

“You need to sleep,” he finally spoke. He opened his eyes to see Delaney bite her lip, her face filled with contemplation, eyes filled with a mixture of fear and guilt. “I’ll wake you if he comes,” Joe urged softly, and she lifted her eyes to his, “I promise, Dee… I promise you.” She didn’t respond, her gaze dropping seconds later.

Joe pursed his lips as she slid her head from his leg, but he didn’t move. He didn’t want to frighten her. He watched her scoot, her brow furrowed, her face filled with pain as she struggled to press her head against the cushion. Joe wondered if it always hurt this bad, or it was this time, and that’s why she allowed his comfort. He watched as she finally closed her eyes and kept his eyes on her until her breathing evened out several minutes later.

“You sleep, too,” Danielle spoke softly, and Joe finally moved his eyes from the broken girl beside him. “Joe, get some sleep… I’m not leaving; Kevin’s working until late tonight.”

“Wake me up if she gets up,” he spoke firmly, and Danielle nodded, her eyes filled with sympathy.

“Go upstairs to the guest room,” she urged, but he shook his head, and Joe could see in her eyes that she knew he wouldn’t leave. He leaned back into the couch, his fatigue setting in quickly. Joe reached forward, his fingers brushing along a few strands of Delaney’s hair near her cheek, and closed his eyes. He smiled softly as he felt another blanket being thrown over his lap, and it was moments before he completely drifted off, his hand still in her hair.

In the days following, Delaney didn’t as much as look in Joe’s direction. And though he was expecting the reaction, it didn’t stop the blow to his chest with the avoidance. Joe didn’t speak to her, didn’t even try, merely sitting on the couch during their hours alone, letting her do as she did on her own. He kept watch but did not approach or speak, only watching. The only comfort he could provide was his constant presence, a reminder he was not going away.

Nick’s graduation arrived just short of two weeks after the incident. And it turned into a significant event in the family, especially in his father’s eyes. Though it was only his Associate’s degree, he’d gotten the internship and would be transferred to the prestigious university afterward. He’d finally found himself an apartment, a two-bedroom. However, Delaney had done nothing to assist him in choosing, which worried Joe.

Joe still hoped she’d stay behind, but he worried for her. He did not know what that would do to her. Nick had been spending more and more time away from the house, a notion which continued to hit Delaney deeper with each announcement. They all knew he wasn’t working, even if he didn’t say so, and no one but Delaney knew precisely where he was going.

But even when he was around, Nick did not speak to Delaney. He didn’t even so much as acknowledge her presence unless she was doing something to displease him. Joe had sadly grown to recognize these gestures. However, they were virtually nonexistent to everyone else, and he could see how it affected her.

Delaney had cried once. Not visibly, but her eyes filled with tears. She and Nick had left the room shortly after that, and she didn’t come back. But when Joe arrived the following day, she had bruises, the first he’d ever seen since her scalp. There were four, almost perfectly circular, just around the bottom of her right collarbone. They had to be Nick’s fingerprints from where he’d undoubtedly grabbed her in some way.

Delaney had surprisingly given Joe a smile that day. Her eyes met his for the briefest of moments, and she smiled, it was soft and barely ghosted her lips, but it was there. It was her first acknowledgment of him since he’d witnessed the horrendous act in the kitchen.

Joe was leaving when he saw it, departing from their eight hours of silence. Nick was expected back shortly, and she’d given it to him when he was on his way out the door. The graduation ceremony was the next day, and she didn’t smile again.

Joe didn’t go to the ceremony with everyone, having worked the night before. Instead, he went to his parents’ house, preparing to nap before the celebratory meal. It was all at Nick’s discretion, of course, which meant it, would be as extravagant as his father’s money allowed, which turned out to be quite a bit. He arrived after they’d left for the school, and he thought he’d be alone. They were all supposed to be going, even Delaney.

Joe entered the house and was immediately shaken to his core at the sound of her heartwrenching sobs. They were echoing through the entire house as though she thought she’d be alone as well. He could call out for her, but it would potentially startle or scare her. Instead, Joe searched, his eyes scanning each room, moving to Nick’s last. The sight before him caused him to audibly gasp, the sound far too loud, and she lifted her eyes in fear.

Delaney sat crumbled in the center of the room, wearing only her underwear. The rest of her body was bare, and she held a thick fabric tight in her fist, her dress he discovered later. Her hair was shielding her face, which was swollen amongst her broken tears. The undeniable bruising on her shoulder and he noticed a matching one growing on the opposite shoulder, shining even in the dim room, accenting her deeply sunken frame.

“Oh my God,” Joe managed to whisper before the air left his lungs. He rushed to her side, his hand reaching for a blanket over the edge of the bed. Joe didn’t hesitate to wrap it around her. “Oh, Dee,” he whispered, his breath in her hair as he wrapped his arm tight around her. He closed his eyes as though he could pretend the shudders of her body did not exist, knowing they were because of his touch.

“No,” she shook her head against him, repeating the word, but he didn’t pull away. He wrapped the blanket tight, his voice; soft whispers of nonsensical words became lost in her hair. “Y-you can’t,” she spoke, her voice vibrating with her body, “no touching… no touch, don’t touch. No touch… _nononono_!”

“Fuck, Dee,” Joe groaned as her elbow dug into his side, the sharp bone hitting him just right. “God, please,” he begged, his forehead resting against the side of her head, “God, please,” he pleaded, and she began to relax as though listening to his prayer, “help me, help me… God, please, please help me.”

“Joe,” Delaney gasped. Her voice was rough and low, nonexistent had he not been listening intently. Joe moved his hands to cup her cheeks, forcing her eyes to his. The movements were much rougher than he’d intended, and she flinched in his hold, her eyes filling with fright.

“Sorry, sorry,” he breathed, his thumbs brushing her jaw and her trembling slowed once again. “I’m right here,” his eyes were wide as he spoke, pleading, “I’m right here… not going anywhere.”

“H-he-he-he,” she babbled, the fear growing. “I’m a-a,” she managed to gasp, and Joe felt all the air leave his chest, an understanding of what his brother had said to her.

“No, no, no,” he shook his head, though fully aware she would not take in his words. “No, Dee,” he continued, aching for her to understand, but she wouldn’t, she never would.

“I can’t,” she bit her lip as more tears spilled, and he pulled back slightly, giving her moments of space. As he did, she trembled again, “J-joe.” He immediately invaded her space yet again, and she surprisingly calmed, though only for a moment.

“Come with me,” Joe whispered. Joe slid his arms around her frame, one to her back, the other to her leg. He pulled her close to his body and stood up. Joe glanced to the clock, relieved they still had hours before the family returned. Nick would eventually come back as well, as unfortunate as it was.

Joe stepped into the bathroom, leaving the door open a crack, the only light filling the room once he closed the shade. He set on her the floor, and she remained curled in a ball, her eyes wide with fear as he turned away from her. He started the water, keeping warm, but not enough to scald.

Joe did not turn back to her until it was full, unwilling to face his failures in her. Maybe there was something he could’ve done, kept her from this unbearable pain. Joe wasn’t even sure what he was doing, but he was willing to try anything. He finally turned, his lips pursed as his eyes roamed her face. 

“Let me,” Joe whispered, sliding the blanket off her arms. He slowly picked Delaney up and gently slid her into the water without removing her remaining clothes, his sleeves dipping deep into the warm liquid. The dark bathroom hid her body from his sight, from her view, somehow knowing she needed it.

The lack of respect for her body was something he first noticed several weeks after first coming to the house regularly. The family’s mirror that sat in the main hall was large and held by a thick fancy frame passed down from his grandmother. Delaney had been cleaning it with the Windex, wiping the edge of the mirror meticulously.

Joe watched her stop, her eyes wide as she stared at her reflection, then filled with tears moments later. She didn’t look in a mirror without cringing after that. Joe knew it was just another his brother had done. It was one more unforgivable notion, another image that would never leave his mind.

“Here’s a washcloth,” Joe whispered, his voice soft as to not startle her.

Delaney’s eyes were wide as she lifted them towards his face; her fingers trembled when she reached. Joe’s hand wrapped around the back of hers as his other handed her the cloth, holding her hand between his for several seconds. He grabbed a cup from the side of the tub and dipped it slowly into the water.

“Close your eyes,” he said gently, not sure if she’d comply. But she followed his instruction as he pressed his hand to the back of her neck beneath her hair, easing her head back.

Joe let the water drip smoothly through her locks several times. Even after it was thoroughly wet, he continued to dip the cup, getting more water. Her face had slowly relaxed, her brow almost entirely unclenched, and he savored the moment, knowing it would not last.

Taking his time, Joe gently rubbed the shampoo between his fingers, feeling it thicken between his palms. Joe was nervous about her reaction, and as expected, she jumped when his hands touched her hair. When he separated the locks, he realized her scalp was swollen, even further than he’d seen before.

With a shaky breath, he realized that it had happened again. Nick was hurting her, his brother was hurting her, his Delaney was in pain, and he had done nothing. As Joe brushed the skin with his fingertips, he sighed. In the back of his mind, he wondered how many times, how long this had been going on truly. But in the end, Joe didn’t want to know. It hurt him too badly.

These were marks Joe knew he’d never leave on a girl; he never had, even in his most pleasure-filled moments. He wouldn’t have, couldn’t have. He never left bruises on a woman’s hips like Delaney’s, his brothers’ finger and nail markings lingering behind. Joe couldn’t imagine how roughly Nick had most likely held her still.

Joe’s thoughts darkened as he wondered if she’d ever even experienced it herself, the moments of climax as Nick obviously did. He knew she probably never had. Nick probably wouldn’t let her. But Joe knew he could make her feel as she needed, and it hurt to think, knowing he was the better man. But one she did not want.

Trying to remain calm, Joe rinsed her hair in the same fashion he’d wet it. His eyes were on her, watching each shuddering breath that left her lips, watching her relaxing brow. Her body continued to shake, and he wondered if it ever stopped. He wondered if the trembling ever ceased. Joe considered, wondering if the fear ever left her, the dread of being hurt, of his scrutiny, and the hardest for Joe to admit, the ultimate fear of Nick’s departure.

“I’m gonna go,” Joe whispered as he set the cup aside, wanting her to have the privacy she’d need. Delaney’s eyes grew wide, and his fingers gently brushed through the ends of her hair, wary of the tangles. “I’ll be right outside,” he continued, his eyes boring into hers even if she could not meet his gaze. “Call me when you’re done,” his voice grew softer, and her eyes remained unmoving as she gazed somewhere behind him.

“Joe,” she breathed as he turned. “Don’t,” she spoke, and he nodded without looking back. He sat around the side of the counter, his body facing away from hers. He knew it was easier for her that way, and he would do anything to make things easier for her, anything. He’d do anything for her.

The minutes were long, only random splashes were heard, and despite his resolve, Joe had to force himself to stay awake. The dark of the room matched with his rigid stance, and it caused him to drift every few seconds. The night of work and lack of sleep the day before weighed in on him. He heard a loud splash, and Joe turned, his eyes growing wide as he watched her struggle to exit the tub.

“Wait,” he spoke. Joe grabbed a large towel from the side and wrapped it around her body. He ignored the number of times it could wrap around her frame as he pulled it tight. “Which brush is yours?” Joe asked, glancing to the counter. Her wavering finger pointed, and he nodded, grabbing it from the drawer.

Delaney’s walk was uneven, and he followed closely in case she might faint again. But she didn’t. When they re-entered his brother’s room, he watched her move to the closet and grabbed one of the most enormous shirts. She then walked to the dresser and pulled out a pair of underwear and Nick’s large pants.

It was a sudden odd thought that she didn’t grab a bra, and Joe realized he hadn’t seen her wear one in a while. It wasn’t hard to avoid the view. The wide collar of Nick’s shirts often slid down her shoulders as she cleaned. Joe began to realize he hadn’t seen her wear her own clothes in much too long.

He turned as she dressed and listened to the sounds of the towel before a loud slam startled him. He turned with a flash to see her on the floor, a line of blood etched across her forehead. She’d fallen, apparently crashing her head against the dresser. She’d only managed to pull on the dry underwear, one leg in the pants, the other was not as she lay broken on the floor.

“Delaney,” he spoke with a shaking breath, and she lifted her eyes. Her tears were silent and streaming without pause, and he nodded. “It’s okay,” he whispered, “it's okay.”

He gently helped her ease the second leg into the pants without touching her bare skin; he knew she wouldn’t like that. Joe eased the shirt over her head amongst her tears. Afterward, he wiped away the line of blood with the towel.

It was an extended, thin cut, but small, and the bleeding stopped only moments later, though a scab would undeniably form. It would be hurt fault, Joe knew, and she’d receive some sort of punishment. There was nothing he could do to stop it.

“Are you alright?” Joe asked after several minutes. He sat before her, the towel in his hand and his eyes on her. She nodded once, and Joe knew it was the only response he was going to get. “Can I brush your hair?” he asked, unsure if he should or not. She nodded again, slowly turning her back to him. “Okay,” he whispered, taking the edge of her locks in his hand.

“I need to cut it,” she whispered, and he suddenly moved to face her.

“No, no,” he shook his head, “don’t cut it… I love your hair.” Her eyes grew wide, but she didn’t respond, and he dropped his head before speaking the words. He’d never said them aloud, but she needed to hear them, even if she honestly couldn’t, not over Nick’s voice in her head.

“God, Dee,” he whispered, his voice pleading with her, “you’re so beautiful… so beautiful,” he spoke softly, but his voice urgent, begging her to understand. “I love your smile, did you know that? It can light up the whole room, Dee.”

“A-and your laugh,” Joe continued, his hands clenched into fists in his lap. He tried to rationalize that she would hear any of this but knew she wouldn’t be able to. “It’s been so long since I’ve heard it, but God, I love that sound…” his thumb brushed the edge of her finger and ignored the flinch, “you’re so amazing, Delaney… you’re just… so amazing.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, shaking her head. He nodded, Delaney didn’t believe him, but he knew she wouldn’t. He reached forward with the brush, moving it through the thick locks. It tugged, and the tears immediately fell from her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke, and he placed the brush in her hand, unsure of how to do it without hurting her.

Joe watched as Delaney took his place, biting her lip, the tears continuing to stream as she pulled it through the locks. Her movements were hurried as she struggled to get through the tangles, to make her hair looked neat. She breathed a slow breath when she finally dropped the brush to the side, her hands trembling, her body shaking in pain.

After several moments, Joe wordlessly picked up the brush and brought it along with the towel to the bathroom. He drained the tub and wiped away all remnants of their time in the bathroom. He put the towel in the hamper and the brush neatly in the drawer, though fully aware it was not as meticulous as she could’ve done.

When he returned to the room, his heart nearly broke at the image, like so many other times. Her body was on its side, resting on the floor, the blanket pulled tight in her fists with her legs curled firm into her chest. Her hair was fallen off her, revealing one of the faintest bruises on the back of her neck. But she was asleep, her body tense and unmoving, but she was sleeping. And Joe did not move her. She needed to rest.

Joe shut Nick’s door behind him, moving away from it as though he’d never been in there at all. He went into the living room, his defeated body crumpling into the couch. Joe pulled the blanket over his head and tried to hold it together. He needed to be strong for her, but like a baby, he cried. Joe couldn’t stop the sobs, loud and echoing as he hid beneath the blanket. He cried until he finally fell asleep, her broken body filling his dreams.

As the summer progressed, so did Delaney. She was falling into deep lonely oblivion with no one allowed to catch her. And she didn’t even see it, as much as Joe tried, she couldn’t see it. She couldn’t see what was happening to her, he just wanted to shake her free of the quiet reign, but he couldn’t. And even with Nick was spending even less time at home, each hour of separation only hurting her more than the first. And Joe was unable to stop it, to ease any of her pain.

Joe’s lease was up at the end of June, and Joe found another apartment closer to his parents’ home, just down the street from Kevin and Danielle’s house. His drive to work was nearly an hour now but only ten minutes from his parents’ house, a sacrifice he was more than willing to take. Delaney deserved it.

Joe didn’t sleep as it was. Even when they were separated, his thoughts were on her. Every hour they were apart was more fear and worry clouding each of his thoughts. He knew Nick was there, inflicting punishments and unimaginable acts upon her. And she could not fight back.

Danielle was nearing her due date at the end of August and was forced to spend fewer hours with Delaney, and Joe spent more in return. If Delaney noticed, she didn’t comment. If she cared, she didn’t let on. The last two weeks of July were spent in virtual silence, a deep endless silence that he wished he could break. He just wanted to hear her voice, if only for a few moments. Only her occasional tears broke it, but he was not allowed to comfort her.

The preparations for Nick’s departure were in full force. Joe seemed to be the only one to notice that Delaney was not involved. Her name was not even mentioned. It had not once left Nick’s lips. Her clothing was not boxed or bagged; her personal items were not pulled aside, separated between the things to take and the ones to leave.

Despite the years she’d spent serving him, Joe knew the truth. Delaney was not going, though it seemed he was the only one who knew. She would be staying behind, and he dreaded the consequences. It was going to break her. And he was unsure if she could be fixed, ever.

The only sense of relief Joe received from anyone was his mother’s sudden hovering over Delaney. Her looks were often filled with concern and a sense of disdain when she was with Nick. Joe was pretty sure she’d somehow figured it out, though he never brought it up.

He couldn’t afford to be wrong. Delaney couldn’t afford for him to be false, and that was Joe’s only concern. It would immediately go back to Nick, and Joe did not question the level of Nick’s power anymore. He could do anything, and Delaney would let him.

Almost all Joe’s hours free from work was spent at the house. Nick’s presence was only to prepare for moving, and Joe was there to fill the long, empty hours without him. He could not help but notice that Delaney had stopped eating with the family; she ate in no one’s presence. So he made her lunch, usually large, something to fill her to the brim. She held guilt-filled eyes each time she finished, but she always ate it all.

Their hours were spent in the continued silence. It was stifling. There was so much Joe longed to do but couldn’t. Delaney passed out again a week into August, but this time Joe had not been there to help her. He’d been sleeping; his exhaustion had gotten the best of him.

Even day later, Joe hated himself for it; he knew how weak she was. It was a constant anymore. But despite his resolve to watch her closely, he’d fallen asleep, awaking only at the sound of her sharp cry. It was a sound that felt like a punch in the stomach, and his chest tightened as he moved.

Joe found her splayed out on the bottom of the stairs, her right arm stuck awkwardly beneath her back. She tried to sit up, but couldn’t, though Joe didn’t want to know why. Delaney’s wrist swelled twice its size in a matter of hours, and he tried to take her to the hospital. It was the first he’d tried to speak in days, and she’d only responded with no but reluctantly allowed him to ice the injured hand.

Nick took her three days later; her arm had swollen from her forearm to her fingers, and she could not move it. Joe waited at the house, a borrowed excuse for his presence. She finally returned, a brace on her hand, bruises on her neck, and guilt-filled eyes. But it didn’t compare to Joe’s. She’d sprained her wrist, badly, but it didn’t compare to the pain he’d inflicted. If only he’d been awake, perhaps he could’ve stopped it.

Delaney stopped wearing the brace after two days, and eventually, the swelling went down. There were more bruises around her collar, and Joe couldn’t avoid noticing that she didn’t wear her hair up for almost a week. Nick grabbed her arm roughly in the kitchen one night after dinner. He was growing cocky, that night, Joe knew he’d gotten her again, and once again, he’d done nothing. As if he once could have.

When her wrist started to swell again, he heard his mother beg her to put the brace back on. But Delaney would only shake her head, refusing the apparatus. Joe watched her stare at the older woman with almost the same gaze as with Joe, the guilt and shame present, as though she’d failed somehow.

And at that moment, Joe fully understood his mother knew. He noticed that his mother stopped speaking to Nick after that, something Joe had stopped doing after his graduation. Though Nick didn’t see, he was still the apple of his father’s eye, after all.

Joe met her first. It was an accident, and they were both naked when he walked in. Once again, he wasn’t supposed to be there, and Delaney was gone. Nick had dropped her off at her mother’s house for an hour. And Joe met her. She was blonde, thin, giggly, and catered to Nick’s every need, just like he wanted. Joe vomited a few minutes later, his anger mixing with the bile as he released everything he had in those moments alone.

No one seemed to notice that Delaney wasn’t leaving, but Joe. He occasionally heard Danielle’s worried whispers followed by Kevin’s fears that she was becoming too stressed. Her due date was just weeks away, and they feared for her increasing blood pressure, but her fear for Delaney didn’t fade.

Joe noticed his mother’s constant worried glances and understood that she thought Delaney was going like Danielle did. But Joe knew, and he waited, knowing the time was coming. And it wasn’t going to be pleasant. Delaney barely handled the hours alone, let alone Nick leaving indefinitely.

It was late in the evening when it happened. Danielle called Joe on his way to work, just after his mother had phoned Kevin. Nick was gone; he’d left while Delaney was sleeping and barely said goodbye to the rest. His mother said that he’d left her a note. It was a note no one had read, one that Delaney had yet to see, and his fear for her grew to new heights. He couldn’t leave work, so he had to wait. And just like he feared, the days following were the worst he’d ever encountered.

When he arrived in the morning, Delaney had already woken. She was locked in Nick’s room and did not leave, refused to speak and acknowledge anyone. Joe remained at the door; his head leaned back against the doorframe, waiting for the moment she’d come out. Delaney already needed him, even if she didn’t know it. But he was waiting for the moment when he could save her. Though in the back of his mind, he knew that the day had long since passed.

His father arrived home early that evening, proud of the announcement that Nick had arrived safely. He’d not called anyone else, and afterward, Joe had fallen to his side beside the door, asleep in a matter of seconds. The twenty-four hours without rest had torn into him, and he fell asleep.

He awoke to the slam of the door and his mother’s fearful voice ringing through the air. He stumbled, still hazy with sleep, as he crawled towards the open door. Joe bit his lip as he rushed to her; she was shaking, her body trembling violently.

She couldn’t even stand, trying to run as his mother attempted to embrace her. Delaney fell into a pile of sobs on the carpet. She could hardly breathe, much like Joe. It was far worse than he could have ever anticipated, and he felt the tears pool in his eyes.

“It’s okay,” Joe whispered, his lips close to her ear but not touching. That wouldn’t help. He repeated the words several times until she calmed just slightly, as though she finally heard him.

Joe lifted her then, his arms under her legs and back, and pulled her to him. Delaney’s face curled into his neck, her hands tight against her chest, her knees as close to her body as his embrace would allow. And Joe nearly breathed a sigh; she was accepting his comfort, even if only for a second. He released a second breath as her fingers curled around the neck of his shirt, the fabric twisting with each tug of her hand, but he did not pull away.

Joe lay with her as he lowered her to the bed, unwilling to pull away from her broken body. She fought against his hold as he wrapped a blanket around her shaking frame, but he held tight through her weak struggle. He gave his mother a nod as she pulled the comforter over their bodies, her fingers running gently through Delaney’s hair.

Joe continued to whisper in Delaney’s ear as her tears fell through closed lids, her body still fighting against him. But even when he loosened his arms, she did not pull away. Her back remained against his chest, and Joe did not move from around her. His hands continued to hold both of hers as he whispered in her ear. It may have been too close, but he couldn’t pull away, not when she was in that amount of pain.

When she finally drifted, her body relaxed utterly in his hold. Her breaths were slow and even. Joe’s head eventually fell against the center of her shoulder blades, his breathing shaky and uneven as he fought to calm. He tensed as he heard his father’s voice in the hall, it was loud and argumentative, and he suddenly realized how much it sounded like Nick.

Joe felt his mother run her hands through his hair, silently reassuring him. She locked the door before shutting it tight; no one could come in without him opening it. After several hours, he fell asleep with Delaney in his arms, her body close to his. He didn’t call into work, but they left a voicemail.

When Joe awoke early in the morning, her still sleeping, he discovered he’d been fired. But he realized he didn’t care, and he turned his phone off and drifted back to sleep, Delaney still tucked in his arms. They slept in the same position for a total of fifteen hours, and when she awoke in tears, he didn’t let go.

They stayed for days; Danielle brought them food, even in her pregnant state. His mother did everything she could when she wasn’t working, but his father wasn’t shy about wanting them out. Nick had lied about her, and his father trusted him. His father now hated Delaney, but on the plus side, Kevin believed them. He’d apologize, Joe knew, but it would be some time. Kevin was smart; he would wait until she was ready to hear it.

Joe left only to shower when his mother assisted Delaney in the opposite bathroom, the lights darkened for her ease. Delaney would not be alone. If nothing else, he made sure she was not alone. She still wouldn’t speak. She spent her days in tears, her nights in pitiful sleep.

Delaney hardly ate, but Joe did his best to ensure she had something. When his mother came to him one morning informing him that Danielle and Kevin cleaned out their storage room for Delaney, they moved her there with Joe by her side. He refused to leave her.

His belongings were put in storage. His landlord, a kind and caring man, did not charge him for his sudden departure. He listened as Joe explained the situation, offering him a place, if he had one open, later on. Joe thanked him profusely, but the man was modest and shook his head at his apologies.

Joe did not search out a new job, instead choosing to survive on the saving account he’d had since high school. It was the first time he’d ever taken anything from it, though it was much needed now.

Danielle went into labor two days after Delaney moved in, but Joe did not go to the hospital. He stayed with Delaney; he would not leave her alone. Joe was determined to never break that promise. She had to know he would never break it. Even though he had not kept her safe, this was a promise he could hold. He could not fail her again; he _would_ not fail her again.

Days passed, and the baby came home. Delaney stopped sleeping, so Joe didn’t. She didn’t speak, and he spent hours in silence. She stared at nothing while he stared at her. Joe wasn’t sure how long it took, but when she finally spoke, he listened intently. Those moments when she cried, Joe wiped away her tears, rocking her as she sobbed. Eventually, she began to sleep again, actually sleep. Still, he continued to hold her, the only thing he knew how to do.

“Hey,” he whispered one afternoon, and she turned her head. Delaney had been up for eighteen hours this time, the past four hours spent with her eyes on the wall.

“Look at me,” Joe spoke, and she lifted her eyes, her gaze somewhere near his chest. “Dee, baby. Look at me,” he urged, and tears filled her eyes. They did each time he spoke the nickname. He gently cupped her cheek as she sniffled, “It's okay, Dee, it's okay.”

“It’s never going to be okay,” Delaney whispered. Joe’s hand slid around the back of her head and pulled her face to his neck.

She began to sob once again, and slowly her arms wrapped around his torso. Her fingers were clinging to the fabric, pulling it tight in her fists. Her knees were against her chest, and he wrapped his hand around her lower back, keeping her against him, even if she didn’t want him to.

“Why?” she sobbed, and he shook his head, his face dipping into her hair. “Why wasn’t I…?” she gasped, a question he’d heard far too often through the course of the last weeks.

They’d tried to get her to see someone, but she refused. Joe didn’t know if they’d ever get her to see someone but didn’t know if she could be fixed without it. Joe was determined to try, a notion he’d yet to give up on because she needed the help. Joe alone could not heal her.

“You wanna go for a walk?” he asked softly. He’d gotten Delaney to leave the house two days prior, though she’d only clung to herself, entering the house far quicker than she’d left. She shook her head against his chest, and he nodded, “what about Alena?”

“In a minute,” she mumbled, and he breathed a heavy sigh. It was a step. Alena was nearly two months old, and Delaney had made little improvement over the last weeks. Joe had not gone back to his parents’ house, though his mother made frequent trips to see them. They did not mention Nick’s name in front of her again, it had been a mistake last time, and Joe knew she couldn’t handle it.

“Okay,” Joe said softly, his fingers shifting to trail along her spine. Her bones protruded less and less as she gained weight, though her self image seemed to fade with each additional pound.

It was just another reason that had led them to this day. Her mother had found someone who made house calls; they’d told her of their situation and said she’d try. Though Delaney was of age, if she refused, there was nothing to be done.

“Hey,” he looked up to see Danielle at the door, her eyes wide and indicative of what was waiting for them downstairs. Joe nodded, and Danielle shut the door. It was time to tell her. He would not surprise her, knowing better. He sat up slowly, and she followed him in confusion.

“Dee,” he said softly, his eyes moving to hers hesitantly. “There’s someone here,” he said softly, curling his fingers around her clenched ones. He turned to face her, his eyes reading her, “They’re here to talk to you… they might be able to help you.”

“No. No,” Delaney shook her head, repeating the word as her body recoiled, her fists tightening. Joe shifted to his knees in front of her. He moved his hands to cup her neck, his thumbs along her jaw.

“Dee, listen,” he whispered, and her eyes grew wide, filling with fear. “Listen to me,” he spoke softly, urgently, “please just try, just once… and then never again.”

“Never again,” she breathed, and he nodded.

“You can be alone with her,” he continued, “or we’ll all stay there… but please, please, I’m begging you to try… please just try... for me, just try.”

“S-stay,” she whispered, and he nodded.

“We’ll all stay,” Joe smiled, a sense of relief flowing through him. Delaney shook her head then, her eyes staring up at him yet not meeting his gaze.

“Just you,” she spoke, and he understood this time. His heart broke at the fear spread across her features; her body was already trembling in anticipation.

“Let’s go,” he stood, knowing it was better to do it now while she still agreed. Joe kept his arm around her shoulders as she stood with him. He pulled her blanket, her security blanket, he thought, and she had to have it anytime she left the room.

Delaney pulled away as they entered the living room, wrapping her arms around her torso as a sense of comfort. Danielle met his eyes, and he nodded his head. Delaney had agreed to this. She quickly but quietly ushered everyone from the room. The one who stayed behind was a plump woman with a warm smile. Though his eyes were trained on Delaney and her reaction to the unfamiliar woman. Joe sat on the couch, and she followed but did not sit too far away from him.

The first session lasted for hours, though she did not protest or even try to leave if the woman cared. Joe was unsure how the woman managed to get her to speak, yet she did. Delaney spoke up throughout the session. Though it was only in brief snippets, she still said things, mostly about herself.

The woman continued to nod and asked gentle questions. She wrote in her notebook, pursing her lip every few moments. Her eyes were trained on Delaney, as though reading each of her movements and behaviors. It was similar to Joe, but he knew he did not have the training necessary.

The woman came back the next day and the one after, and the one after that. She never stopped coming, except on the weekends. Those days it was just him and Delaney. It wasn’t simple, but after a few weeks of the lengthy sessions, Delaney began to come downstairs independently.

Joe would watch her sit up and slowly, yet meticulously wrap her blanket around her shoulders. The first few times, she glanced his way, silently begging him, and Joe would always follow close behind.

Sometimes she’d sit downstairs mere minutes, others for hours, though she was always silent. Sometimes her eyes would seemingly focus on them, as though listening to their conversations. Other times, she simply stared in space.

As the weeks passed, they began to finally see more of the changes. Delaney spoke every so often, breaking the silence more than Joe did. She usually didn’t say much, but Joe didn’t care. He was just relieved to hear her voice. He wasn’t lying when he said it was a beautiful sound, and it was just another step she’d taken. No matter how small, it was a step.

The first night she ate dinner with them, she sat for just a minute before Alena started crying, scaring her, so Joe took her upstairs. She’d fallen asleep, crying that night; it was then he realized that she’d stopped crying herself to sleep every night. Another step, he reminded himself, another step.

It was just another few weeks before Delaney was eating dinner at the table every night, her chair often close to Joe’s. Joe could see on her face that she was still wary of how much she was eating and how much she was speaking. But she was there, and that’s all that mattered.

One morning Joe woke to an empty bed, his hand reaching into open space. Delaney had been in therapy for many months, and his initial assumption was that she was downstairs, talking to Sally. But he still arose and stumbled from the room, rubbing his eyes as he staggered down the stairs.

Joe could hear Danielle and Alena and moved towards the living room, where the child’s toys were located. He moved slowly around the corner, his eyes searching for Delaney. But as he entered the room, he was shocked awake, his eyes wide and a smile playing at his lips as he took in the view before him.

“Hey,” he spoke softly, and Delaney looked up at him.

She met his eyes, her gaze moving several times between him and the baby before her, Alena resting in her arms. Delaney looked down and then up at him, looked down for several seconds and then back up at him, his eyes trained on her every movement.

Delaney looked down again, and then her eyes moved back to him, slowly locking with his gaze. And then she did it. It was the most beautiful sight in the world. Delaney smiled, her first smile in months upon months, but she smiled at him. Joe thought it was going to end, but it lingered, covering her features.

She’d done it, though. For him, she smiled. And Joe knew. At that moment, when she smiled, he knew. It was going to be okay. She was going to be okay. For the rest of his life, he knew he would do anything to make her smile. When she smiled, he was complete. His life held purpose. He lived for her and the moments when he could make her smile.

When she smiled, she was okay. The pain was gone, and she was simply his Dee. Their eyes met, and his chest grew tight at the understanding. When she smiled, she was his. She always would be.


End file.
